


Discussion

by Anonymous



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), PKNA - Paperinik New Adventures
Genre: Drabble, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Just for a day,” Donald mutters. “Just a day.”He doesn’t get a reply back.
Relationships: Donald Duck & Uno | One (Disney: PKNA), Donald Duck/Uno | One (Disney: PKNA)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76
Collections: Anonymous





	Discussion

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a drabble testing out my skills on writing Uno/Odin and Donald before I eventually go ham and start writing huge @ss angst stories cause I love this pairing so gosh darn much. If it isn't obvious, this chat takes place somewhere between when Donald drops the kids off at Scrooge's place and before Scrooge takes the kids on an adventure. Oh and Pk2 doesn't exist it never happened Uno and Donald are happy and I make the rules.

“How’s Scrooge?”

Donald backtracks, fork halfway into his mouth. The eggs on his plate are still warm, and the cup beside him is filled with coffee. He raises a brow. “I’m sorry?”

The android flickers into existence, appearing in front of the duck and his morning breakfast. A chair slowly arises from the ground, the hum of machinery familiar. Donald stares, albeit not on purpose, as the large head of his AI partner floats behind him. Uno makes his way over to their shared control panel, the heart of the Ducklair tower, and stops. He turns back to Donald, and with a knowing glance, Donald heaves a sigh and arises from the couch. 

“I was eating,” Donald says, frowning. He crosses his arms and walks over to Uno, standing beside him - shoulder to head. 

“I’m aware,” Uno replies, smiling. The AI shuffles downwards. “Plug me in.” 

Donald doesn’t hesitate. He takes the orb and, without missing a beat, opens a small hatch. A puff of steam rises into the air, but neither party seems concerned. Uno gets into position, snug between the wall and the small opening below the control panel, and Donald can’t help but smile. 

“Ready?” Donald asks. Uno nods. 

Donald reaches over and flips a single switch upwards. The lights in the tower momentarily flicker, and Donald wonders if this was going to be their  _ third  _ blackout, but then Uno laughs and Donald turns around. 

“You could have done that yourself.” He states, rolling his eyes. 

The android, no longer the small contained head, smirks. His eyes glow green, and Odin Eidolon steps away from where Uno had once been. 

“It’s not as fun.” Odin chimes, laughing. He raises his synthetic arms above his head, the twitching of rubbing machinery loud in Donald’s ears. 

“Well, now my eggs are gonna be cold.” 

Odin laughs again, and it warms Donald’s heart in a way he knows isn’t appropriate. “I’ll make you more.”

The two meander their way back to the couch, and Odin gracefully takes his seat at the newly formed chair. The android pulls up his sleeves, the green drapery rubbing against nimble arms, and Odin pointedly catches Donald’s lingering eyes. “I’ll ask again: how’s your uncle? I heard you started talking to him today- for reasons I  _ still  _ can’t understand.” 

Donald pulls his eyes away, scowling. Odin was never one to hide his feelings. It was no secret to anyone who knew the man that Odin hated Scrooge McDuck. Even before Donald had met the man, the two billionaires had never been known to be on the same page. It was either Odin at Scrooge’s neck, or Scrooge breathing down Odin’s. It was undoubtedly a twist of fate when Odin had come to meet Donald and had  _ actually  _ enjoyed his presence. 

Odin purses his lips together, hands reaching for the still-hot cup of coffee adjacent to him. 

“That’s mine,” Donald states, but watches as it falls on deaf ears. 

“I’ll make you more.” 

Donald shakes his head, going to reject the offer, but Odin’s stare stops him short. With a cranky and  _ horribly  _ disguised pout, Donald waves a hand flippantly into the air. “Ugh, he’s - he’s fine, I guess.” 

“Fine?” Odin questions, Donald wincing afterward. “Define ‘fine’.”

The sailor whips his hat from his head, almost tempted to chuck it at Odin, but thinks better of it. Instead, the item finds itself between Donald’s hands, subject to the nervous strangeling Donald enforces. “Odin, it went okay. We - the kids are having fun.” 

The billionaire crosses his legs, blowing on his already lukewarm coffee. He takes a sip, face scrunching up. “You added way too much cream.”

“I did?”

Odin shakes his head. “So, Scrooge agreed to babysit them?” 

Donald nods. “Yeah. Can’t say it was easy though.”

An amused smirk finds its way onto Odin’s face. “He’s never been one for charity, let alone anything less than subjectively selfish acts.” He pauses, hand under his chin. “How much did you pay him?”

“I didn’t pay him!” Donald cries, face aghast. He sinks into the couch, frowning. “You have so little faith in me.”

Odin shakes his head. “I have little faith in Scrooge, Donald. Not you.” 

The two fall into a brief silence. Odin takes the opportunity to gently fold a napkin under Donald’s neck. The sailor doesn’t comment when the other man’s hand lingers as if searching, waiting for something, before being pulled back. 

“You want more eggs?” He asks, motioning to the now definitely cold eggs. It’s not like they’d go to waste, no, Odin would eat them later, but it was the sentimental value that always had Odin asking. Donald rolls his eyes. “I was joking.” 

Odin hums. “I know.” 

The man folds his hands under his face, cradling the prosthetic skin absentmindedly. “Well, I have a meeting later today was our great ol’ friend Glomgold, and then I have an overdue discussion with the head of technology. Will you be accompanying me or would you rather stay with the kids?” 

Donald squints, confused. “But the kids are with Scrooge right now.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

_ Oh. _ The sailor huffs. “Yeah, I’ll check on them later. I’m going to call them and see how they’re doing.” 

Odins smiles. “Good. Less they are maimed and killed.” 

“Odin!” Donald shouts, rising from his seat. 

Odin doesn’t comment, instead raising a finger to aim at the now spilled coffee. “Nice.”

Donald rolls his eyes. “It was time the kids met their uncle! Why not let him babysit them!?” 

Odin opens his mouth to reply, but Donald glares at him, and Odin's shoulder’s lower with reluctance. 

“It’s just for a day! It’s been ten years, Odin.”

The man beside him sighs. “Ten years, two months, six days, two minutes, and thirty-two seconds, but yes, it  _ has  _ been a while.” He reaches over to grasp at a stray napkin, before weakly throwing it towards the sailor. “I just, can’t fathom  _ why _ . I’m the richest duck in the world, rivaled only by the devil himself. I could have hired  _ anyone  _ to watch over the kids, anyone, and you know this, Donald!” He crosses his arms, looking anywhere but at his partner. “I just don’t want them getting hurt like you were!” 

Odin lets out a breath. “Also, the coffee is staining the carpet.” 

Donald reaches down to swipe at the floor uselessly, knowing full well that the napkin would only make the spill worse. He doesn’t look up, choosing to instead focus on the accident before him. If he sees Odin staring at him, face filled with a worry unlike him, Donald doesn’t comment. 

“Just for a day,” Donald mutters. “Just a day.” 

He doesn’t get a reply back. 


End file.
